


brighter things than diamonds

by meredyd



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shattering - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 20:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meredyd/pseuds/meredyd
Summary: Pearls are only there to hold things. One of those things is secrets. It isn’t, she tells herself each time, that she hasn’t tried, that he doesn’t deserve to know.





	brighter things than diamonds

“You understand,” says Rose, her hand enveloping both of Pearl’s, folded together, “What it is I’m asking you to do, my Pearl?” 

Softly, her eyes never once leaving Pearl’s, never once looking away. The way she would talk to an equal. The seriousness leaking into her words, warm even in this. Pearl shivers. 

_Of course I understand_ , Pearl shouts. _Don’t you know I would do anything you asked of me, because you asked? I would do anything you asked of me, anyway_. Pearl bows her head slowly, and nods, and there is something in Rose’s smile that is gleaming and triumphant. She brings Pearl’s hand to her mouth, plants it with a light kiss.

 

Even before, it was hard for Pearl to understand why anyone loved to change her shape. Pearls shapeshifted for usefulness and only that. Should your Diamond need some kind of assistance your changed form could provide, well, how could you say no? But Amethyst turns into owls and children and cotton candy and pinwheels. She impersonates other people and uses their voices, and this makes her laugh, and this makes her happy. 

Sometimes Pearl is filled up with the realization that no one, really, has ever told Amethyst what to do - or if they have, she hasn’t listened, and she arranges her swords carefully and practices with each one until human hours have disappeared and she is certain again of her own utility.

 

She’s seen so many Gems shatter already. You take information and you synthesize it so your Diamond can understand it. Pearl has seen Gems shatter already and when the moment finally comes, the fierce joy isn’t what she expected and it throws her off balance. The codes of chivalry Pearl has studied for thousands of years, all of the glories of war she’s already felt, have never mentioned or prepared her for _that_. 

 

Steven is sprawled out on the floor of the house, coloring. Connie has left, her lesson successful if unfocused (she wants to ask Steven not to watch every time, and never can), and now in the low twilight spilling through the open door Steven is drawing her chopping at a training dummy with Rose’s sword.

Pearl picks up a green colored pencil and slides it back into the box where it came from. “Steven,” she starts, then stops. 

He looks halfway up, not really listening. “Do you think I should give Connie some armor? I know she doesn’t really have any but I think it’ll look nice. I’m not sure what color it should be, though. Maybe I should use the glitter pens —“ 

He is such a perfectly human child. He’s nothing like her at all. She is aware as she sometimes is of being someone who has arrived here for reasons that are a mystery in this moment, adrift in a world that will vanish in the blink of an eye, one that in no way belongs to her. None of this belongs to her. 

“Well, let me see,” Pearl says. “Ancient Gem warriors did sometimes wear reflective armor, although that depended very much on status.”

“Was any of it rainbow glitter?” Steven asks, hopefully.

“No,” says Pearl. “But historical inaccuracy is the soul of most art, I suppose.”

“Cool!” says Steven.

Pearls are only there to hold things. One of those things is secrets. It isn’t, she tells herself each time, that she hasn’t _tried_ , that he doesn’t deserve to know. 

 

For a few moments she can’t see anything except pink, even in her peripheral vision. Pearl closes her eyes, herself, as a thousand shards begin to scream, and she doesn’t open them again. 

She’s convulsing with great heaving sobs, expending every effort to keep the shape of Rose. Rose’s soft arms, Rose’s careful fingers, Rose’s curls bouncing against her shoulders almost comforting in the lustrousness as she runs. Afraid even now that she’ll drop the sword, that her strength will not carry out until she reaches sanctuary. 

And then Rose is there, as she always is, and Pearl is herself again. Rose holds her, she kisses Pearl’s gem, her cheek, her hands that have done this thing but are now once again her own, pointed and familiar. She lets the sword clatter to the ground, onto the rough earth. Rose is speaking to her, words that ordinarily she’d commit to memory, but the enormity of what has just happened comes with the vanishing of her awareness. _Knew_ , Rose says. _Knew you could_. Then, maybe: _Done an extraordinary thing_. 

 

Pearl focuses the hologram into a coherent shape. Her Diamond, before her, so tall that her face disappears into the rafters of the temple. She’s aware that she hasn’t take enough precautions. Steven could come, or Garnet, but the usual concerns for doing this in a place of safety can only touch her from a distance. She’s done many things lately she has no real explanation for, or not one she could give to anyone but herself. 

_How could you do such a thing?_ says Pearl, says Pink Diamond. _On my own planet, my beautiful planet?_

So Garnet could exist. So she could be free. So Amethyst could be herself. It means nothing to her, it is rote narration, by now worn as far down as possible. The right answer, she’s told Steven so many times, on so many missions, isn’t always the truest one. 

“I loved her,” Pearl says, to the hologram that has long since flickered out.


End file.
